Lay Me Down
by Shizuku Tsukishima749
Summary: -PC Movieverse AU.- Regardless of what transpired, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't help. Both of my brothers needed me, never mind that one of them didn't deserve it. Oneshot.


**July 24th, 2009: A/N: **_I deleted this first chapter after realizing a few mistakes in the content pertaining to Narnian/non-Narnian regions (i.e. mistaking the Lantern Waste for the Wood Between the Worlds) and such. Thus, here is the fixed copy. Sorry if you thought this was the second chapter, which I'm not sure when I'll have up. However, if you guys could read and review my newest Narnia fanfic, 'Kindred'_, _I would be delighted! (For verification, it's a Lu/Cas FRIENDSHIP fic, which I forgot to put in the A/N there. XD) _

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June 17, 2009: _A/N: This is the first Narnia fanfic I've ever written/published, and I must be honest: I'm quite proud of it. Please don't call me out on that! It's simply that I slaved over this, all thirteen pages of it on Microsoft Word, and I am quite pleased with the result. You may read if you wish or click your 'back' button now; frankly, do whatever suits your fancy. If you do choose to read, however, I dearly hop you enjoy! _

**_IMPORTANT_**_: This is in Lucy's point of view and takes place during the first few movie scenes of Prince Caspian. SPOILERS for anyone who hasn't seen the movie! That is all. _

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_**Lay Me Down**

Those eyes… Those beautiful, blue, currently humiliated and sorry eyes belonging to my eldest brother peered at Susan and me as we mowed through the train station's crowd of egging-on students. We were hoping to get a better view of just what was happening…

And, get an eye full we did.

Peter was in the clutches of two teen boys around his age of fourteen, completely disheveled and arms pinioned behind his back. A few tears to his school shirt and sweater vest were apparent, as well as a few bruises, judging from already slightly swelled cheeks. Due to unfortunate experience in this area, I would know even before this fight was over exactly where and what all of his injuries were.

I felt Susan's shoulders slump in ashamed disappointment beside me, and I could only struggle to keep mine from doing the same. Her body language as well as her face and eyes clearly communicated to my brother the same thing we wondered each time this happened, which was undesirably quite frequently: why do you do this?

He'd never answered with a good excuse. It was always 'he shoved me', 'he started it', 'he should have watched where he was going'; all of them spelled out the same thing to my other siblings and me: he didn't have a reason, or if he did, it was something even he couldn't put into words. I had a guess, but…

A loud thud was heard as Peter was thrust into the wall by his assailants, and though he quickly threw one of them to the floor, he was just as rapidly forced right back into it by two of the others.

I became distracted from the fight when a familiar face flashed by Susan and me, its owner swiftly cutting through the horde of students with a set face. Fear gripped me instantly and forced out my next word: "Edmund!"

My brother didn't look at me, didn't look back at all. He was determined to fulfill his duty as younger brother, which was defending the older one. He always did this; he never considered how hurt he might get, how long the bruises would take to heal, what Mum would say when and if she found out.

He was just…resilient and amazing like that, and there was nothing Susan or I could do to stop him once he got started. That's what frightened me the most, really. If we couldn't stop him, and Peter started the physical part of the fights most of the time, what would we do if something really went wrong? What if…

I shook my head, ridding my mind of such dark thoughts. I shut my eyes tightly, though, against the tears that welled in them as Edmund tackled one of the boys to the ground and then proceeded to be straddled and savagely punched in the face.

When I opened my eyes to see blood spout from his now split lip, his head smacking with a crack against the stone floor, I could take it no longer. I rushed forward suddenly, a strangled cry of his name leaving my lips.

"_Ed_!" I had nearly broken through the crowd, was only five to six steps at best from my brother when someone abruptly caught the sleeve of my school blazer and prevented me from going any further. Instinctively, I struggled and moaned miserably, desperate to get to him as he still lay under the older boy.

"Lucy, get back here! What are you doing?! You're going to get hurt!" It was Susan, I realized; my ever-proper, ever-caring sister. She was currently keeping me from potentially serious bodily harm, protecting me from angering _both _of my brothers by risking myself to help them.

Yet, at the present moment, I simply could not bring myself to care; at least, not where Edmund was concerned. I cared very deeply for Peter, too, of course, but…I looked his way for a split second and decided he should be able to take care of himself as he roundhouse punched a boy and dodged a kick to his shin by another.

I didn't hear the rest of my sister's words as I broke free of her grasp and charged headlong into the fight, grabbing the boy on top of my brother by the back of his blazer with moderate difficulty and pinning his arm behind his back.

As he struggled to get out of my hold, I struggled just as hard to keep him in it; sometimes, I forgot I was nine years old again instead of twenty-three. As he gave a hard kick to my knee, my leg gave out, and we toppled to the floor, me on top with his face toward the floor. Still wiggling beneath me, he suddenly became inventive and reached up blindly to grasp one of my braids with the hand that wasn't pinioned. Before I could make a move or realize what he was planning, as my English-child reflexes were less quick to react than my Narnian-adult ones, my hair was pulled in a way that forced my face to meet the floor in a sickening crunch.

In a brief moment of shock and incredible pain, I grew lax in my grip and forgot to move, two mistakes in one moment I would indeed regret. My youthful body quite disoriented, the boy and I unexpectedly reversed roles; I was less than remotely aware of my body being flipped stomach-side up with him above me.

Warm, instinctively stomach churning liquid ran down the sides of my cheeks toward my ears, and I slowly comprehended I had broken my nose; that, after all, would explain the sudden bout of blood, throbbing, and severe pain. Even so, the pain I was feeling now greatly dulled in comparison to some of the pains I'd felt on the battlefields of Narnia.

"_Lucy_?!" My eyes widened. I knew that voice: Edmund! I was almost unhearing to the cries no doubt belonging to the bully keeping me down as he was ripped from his position and thrown harshly into the opposite wall, my brother carefully yet hurriedly yanking me up from the floor to be beside the wall with him.

His hands resting gently on both cheeks, avoiding the blood, I was met with his deep brown eyes as they were trained on me, though they every so often glanced to the side to check that we weren't under attack. A solemn countenance consumed his features, and his entire being radiated protectiveness.

"Other than your nose, are you all right?" I nodded, swallowing. I hated it when he looked so unlike himself, so hard, as he did in every fight. It wasn't him at all; it never had been and never would be. He was a deeply loving soul, even if he showed that side of himself solely to Susan, Peter, and me. "You shouldn't be here. This isn't your battle."

"It's not yours either!" I retorted firmly, defiantly. He was about to protest, but my peripheral vision caught the faintest glimpse of something coming toward us. I wasted no time in grabbing my brother's sleeve and pulling him with me as I moved out of the way of a fist that ended up colliding with the wall where we had just been standing.

Looking back at the wall and then at me, Edmund's eyes were wide as he let out a heavy breath, having momentarily forgotten to breathe from the shock of my abrupt and—then—unexplained action. Quickly gathering himself, Edmund set himself in front of me, fierce and ready to protect me at all costs as he backed me up against the wall.

It was the only way he could live with himself, I realized; if I got hurt any further, he would never be able to look me in the eye again.

Tears entered my eyes; this wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to protect _him_, not vice versa. I wondered if this was how Peter had felt in battles sometimes, wishing to protect us but having that desire deflated and, at the same time, uplifted when one of us risked ourselves to protect him instead.

Thinking of Peter, I chanced a swift glance at him from my position behind Edmund. He was busy with two of the four bullies at the moment, the other two apparently fixed on Edmund and me.

My eldest brother, Aslan bless him, was quite frazzled with himself, obviously missing the marvelous strength of his twenty-eight-year-old body. His coming back home from being out on the town later than normal, bruised, sometimes bleeding, Edmund often trailing and hurt even worse than him most times, proved it.

None of us had been the same, of course. After living a lifetime, an entire fifteen years, ruling a kingdom we loved more than life itself, how could we be? Narnia had changed us, changed us both for the better as well as for the worse.

By returning to our world a year ago today, by running through that Wood, past the lamp-post, and tumbling through the wardrobe doors to be reduced to our childhood selves again… We had involuntarily left the one place we had and would ever truly call home, and we had had no say at all.

There must have been a_ reason_ for such an unanticipated, unwanted taking of leave, I had mused many a time and still did. Aslan must have meant something for us, perhaps something we couldn't find in His world, though I didn't see how that could be possible. I found myself searching for that reason more and more lately, particularly because Peter's fights had gotten so much worse as of recently. Though such a reason had yet to present itself to me, both Edmund and I kept our faith strong.

Peter and Susan were the only ones who ever really wavered. Susan was doubting Narnia and her place there; she had been since a few weeks after our return. It was obvious to all of us how much she was hurting, how she was morphing her pain into striving to assume her role as adult of the family if Peter wasn't going to do it. She was trying to grow up faster than was necessary, just as she had during the war before our beautiful kingdom had been discovered.

Peter was not in denial; no, far from it. Perhaps that was where the trouble lay, however. He had loved Narnia to no end, just as Edmund, Susan, and I had and still did, but maybe he had loved it a bit _too _deeply, if that were possible. His love was a different sort of love entirely, and if these fights were any sort of testament to that love, it honestly was something neither my brother nor sister nor I would ever be able to comprehend.

Even through these rough times, I loved my two eldest siblings. I loved my brother even through all of the messes he made of himself. I loved my sister even through the façade of the adult she hid behind. I loved Edmund as well, even through all of his reckless loyalty to our brother when it was often undeserved.

My mind was shifted back to the present as our two bully assailants crept closer to us, and Edmund inched further back toward me, fully guarding me with his back pressed firmly against me and my back pressed firmly against the wall. His eyes were narrowed, his fists up and knees bent in a fighting stance. My breath halted. He really was going to fight for me…

Not that I believed he wouldn't, of course; after all of the wars and scuffles we'd been through together in Narnia, I knew he would, but…there was still something that reigned as strange in this instance. Perhaps it was seeing him about to fight school boys instead of rogue Narnian creatures, that we were in school uniforms rather than royal garments, that we were being forced to use our fists as alternatives to our weapons…or that he had never fought for me before Narnia, and it was so foreign to see him doing it now.

Whatever it was, it made my moves for me in the next moment.

Grasping Edmund's shoulder tightly, wincing as he tensed briefly, I leaned forward next to his ear and whispered to him, neither of us taking our watchful eyes from the adversaries facing us.

"Edmund, follow me," His eyes flickered to meet mine instantly, fear and an ultimately protective sheen alighting them. Drawing in a deep breath at seeing such a familiar look, I continued. "Trust me."

His jaw clenched and unclenched, the muscles beneath my hand tightening all the more. The sheen brightened extensively, and I barely stopped myself from gulping again. That gleam in his eye meant nothing to the surrounding students as they cheered on the viciousness, meant nothing to the boys attacking us, if they even caught it; however, it meant everything to my sister, brothers, and me.

It was the shine of a boy standing up for a girl, of a big brother protecting his little sister, of a King protecting his Queen. It was the shine of a family, of a bond that would hold strong no matter the conflicts. No matter the brawls, no matter the uncertainty, no matter the constricting guilt on my part…we would never abandon each other; rather, we would love one another every day without reserve.

We had learned enough and more about love and loss over the years in our home; how fast death could come, how long love could last, how the pain of a departed loved one never completely faded. We knew these precious concepts better than any of these students could ever hope to know them, and as the glimmer in Edmund's eyes intensified once more before softening, I knew he understood as well.

As such, he nodded slowly, eyes settling back on our potential tormentors as he moved forward and unyieldingly placed his body just slightly in front of mine. I took on a fighting stance of my own, bending my knees, clenching my fists, and sliding my feet an equal distance apart; I would not be seen as a coward, as someone needing constant protection, in front of these supposed intimidators. It wasn't who I was.

Even with my small stature, the fire in my eyes raged brightly, and I could detect fear in the boys. Smirking inwardly as Edmund did so outwardly, we lunged forward simultaneously and fanned out on both sides before coming straight toward them, startling the young men so much they didn't have much time to react. They tried to flip us, trip us, whatever they could think to do, but our quick, synchronized, skilled footwork outwitted them as we dodged their assaults and rammed each of them in the stomach with our elbows, leaving them to crumple to the floor. Maybe we didn't need swords here after all.

"Peter!" I looked up and cried out in fear as my eldest brother was punched squarely in the jaw and fell, hard, into the wall behind him, a bewildered expression on his face as he tried to get over the shock of the no doubt painful blow and impact. Bringing his eyes slowly to meet mine, I couldn't quite place the expression there except for one of fear for me and Edmund, at whom he was now gazing with a purposeful glint in his blue orbs.

Ed returned it with the smallest smirk, glancing at me for a split second before we rushed over to our brother, albeit as silently as possible. Suddenly, a mocking warning in favor of our oppressors broke out above the noise.

"McDudry! Ludwin! Behind you! It's Pevensie's _rescue team_!" Sucking in his breath as one of the bullies turned toward us and the other strove to keep him quite busy, Peter watched us anxiously, eyes wide and countenance pale...

"_LUCY_!" Three panicked shouts of my name normally served as a good alert, but I was paying more attention to Peter's frightful face than our contender, and that was my mistake. My attention-diverted reflexes were too slow…

The bully tackled me quickly and harshly, ramming me into the wall with brute force. I gave a soundless cry, a pained gasp as the breath was knocked out of me, and I fell forward, connecting torturously with the ground. Unable to move, I could only try to breathe without burdening my agonized chest, back, and head. Compelling my pounding cranium to disobey my numb muscles, I brought it up to assess the situation at hand.

The boy who had put me in this position hovered over me, facing away from me and toward my brothers with what I could tell to be a snide smirk toying his lips, arms crossed over his chest and head dipped slightly in ridiculing challenge. Looking back at my brothers' expressions, I blanched and temporarily stopped breathing.

Edmund and Peter…they both looked… I couldn't stop staring. Absolutely homicidal…

Fists clenched with knuckles white, eyes narrowly fixed on their target and flaming with utmost rage, they stood side by side, the bully previously offending Peter now on the ground beside his friends. The boy looming over me was pulled away within a second's notice, his struggles futile as Peter released his fury on him. Even as Edmund knelt beside me and gingerly helped me into a sitting position against the wall, I could derive that he wanted to be beating the boy just as hard and just as much as Peter was.

Two soldiers came then, whistles shrieking through the station as the heckling students finally dispersed and ran from the scene. One of the adults hauled Peter off of the boy, shoving him and telling him gruffly to act his age before tending to the young men my brothers and I had defeated, while the other made his way over to Edmund and me.

Still feeling immensely protective of me, Edmund clasped my hand tightly as the man knelt before us with a worried, searching expression on his face. Withdrawing a water canteen and handkerchief from one of the many pockets in his uniform, he poured enough droplets to make it damp prior to handing it to Edmund, who gazed at him perplexedly. Smiling gently, the gentleman spoke.

"Your girl here has quite the bloodied face, young man. I'm sure you've both forgotten it in all the commotion, but my guess is she'd want it cleaned." He winked at us, and my eyes widened.

Reaching up with tentative fingers, I felt thick, warm liquid by my nose and on my cheeks. Drawing back those appendages, I was surprised to know the man was right; I'd forgotten all about my broken nose in the bustle of the fight. Looking up at Edmund, I could see he'd quite forgotten it, too, and he heartily thanked the man before taking the water-moistened handkerchief from him. The adult got to his feet, smiled kindly at us one last time over his shoulder, and went on his way.

Turning back to me, my brother hesitated for a fraction of a second ahead of gently beginning to clean the blood from my face. I jumped upon contact at its coldness the first time, shivering involuntarily, but I got used to it and relaxed after a while, closing my eyes and focusing solely on the tenderness with which Edmund was cleaning my 'battle scars', as he called them.

When he finally pulled the handkerchief away, my eyes fluttered open to see that Peter had taken Edmund's place in front of me, his smile minute and warm at the same time, eyes sparkling of apologies and begs for forgiveness. I merely smiled tenderly and pressed into his hand the handkerchief, which I had relieved of Edmund, sitting back and closing my eyes again, waiting. Chuckling softly, Peter set to work on the task I had assigned him, his healing strokes just as light, if not more so, than our youngest brother's.

When my eldest sibling removed the soft material as well, I was sure we had to be done by now, seeing as the white cloth had just about completely turned a deep red. Yet, as I opened my eyes once more, I was incredibly astonished to find Susan before me, gathered in the communion with my brothers.

Her face was concerned and fearsome besides, silently beseeching the same forgiveness Peter had for running along with the mill of students and not joining in when I had been hurt. Simply continuing to smile brightly at her, for I knew all too well her reasons for not jumping in with us, I reiterated the handkerchief trading and closing of eyes, allowing her to take her time in this battle with herself. Uttering no word or sound, I sensed her loving smile and felt her careful, flowing movements across my now mostly unsoiled visage.

When the cleansing implement was gradually separated from my face for the final time, I found I was so relaxed I was nearly asleep. My eyes drooped heavily, and only Peter and Edmund's hands on both of my shoulders as they sat on either side of me kept me from slumping forward into Susan's lap.

"Come on, Lu. School hasn't even started yet, and you can sleep on the train. Up you get!" Peter laughed affectionately, picking me up under the arms and holding me until he was sure I was steady on my own two feet, Susan and Edmund already standing at our sides.

Carefully rubbing my black eyes—I had had many a broken nose in Narnia and knew what to expect—and yawning while grinning mischievously at him, I playfully stuck out my tongue, he returning the gesture with one of his own. Susan jokingly rolled her eyes at us, smiling all the while at how childish we were being. Edmund, though…he simply stared at me for the longest time, expression contemplative and the most thoughtful I'd seen it yet, which was quite a feat. I stopped in my merrymaking with my eldest siblings and turned to my brother, confused and frightened at the same time.

Was he mad at me for having leaped into the fray and winding up more injured than either him or Peter? Was he blaming himself for what had happened, as both of my brothers were used to doing when anything happened to Susan or me? I didn't know, but when he suddenly noticed such uneasy emotions on my face, his own softened. He reached forward to gather one of my hands in his own, his next words seemingly difficult to get out.

"It's all right, Lucy. I'm not mad at you, I promise. I'm just thinking about…what _could _have happened…had Peter and I not been there." He gave me a small, wry smile as he spoke, and my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"If you and Peter hadn't been there, Ed, I wouldn't have been involved in the first place," I reminded him gently. A startled, hurt look crossed his face, and my eyes widened in alarm. I hadn't meant it like that! "There wouldn't have been a need for my participation because _you _were the reason I was fighting, Edmund. I couldn't just stand by and watch as they hurt you…" Peter's face flashed across my mind, and I turned to my blond brother to further explain myself. "Not that you weren't important to me, too, Peter, but each time I looked over, you were fending all right by yourself," At his grin, I twisted around to face Edmund again, tilting his currently bent head to be level with mine as I gazed unwaveringly into his eyes. "I love you, Edmund, and you know me well enough to understand that I would rather die than ever have to witness you being hurt or comprehending I did not a thing to stop it. In my book, there was no better way for me to have been injured," My voice grew softer and softer as my words progressed. "Besides, you and Peter _were _there; you _did _protect me when it mattered; there was _nothing more _you could have done to make the situation any more right in the end," Light and breathy were my final words, an earnest, beautiful smile painting my lips. "You did _well_, my brother-Kings."

Eyes shining with mirth, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek lovingly, palm still resting against the inside of his neck as I did so. Pulling away, I abruptly found myself locked in his arms, holding me with all his might as his head was buried in my hair. His breathing was soft, his body was warm; he was alive and well.

I felt the heat of another being at my left, one more on my opposite side, arms I recognized as my eldest brother and sister's enclosing around both Edmund and me. Beaming, I didn't even notice when the warmth from their bodies disappeared after several minutes, my eyes still closed in extreme delight at such a rare moment between us these days.

Upon finally realizing it, I opened my eyes to find Peter and Susan staring at me oddly, Edmund still having one arm draped around my shoulders as he looked at me as well. Curious and a tad unnerved, I raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something wrong?" As Peter held Susan's small suitcase for her while she dug around in it, a sinking feeling filled my stomach. Edmund pulled me closer and gazed at me reassuringly, I responding to the action with a minute smile. Hearing the clasps of Susan's suitcase snap shut and the object being placed beside her on the ground, our attention was returned to them.

My sister held out her tiny hand-mirror, and I peered at it in confusion. She adjusted it to the desired position, and I suddenly understood its purpose as I paled, eyes widening.

My nose was a tad crooked, swerving the smallest bit to the left. _This_ was what they had been so scared to tell me! When I was younger, I had been enormously attached to my nose, convinced it was the only pretty thing about me. As I grew older, I realized I had been silly, but it was still a great shock to see my nose in such a condition. Even in the most violent battles in Narnia, it had never changed its position in the slightest.

After recognizing just how long I had been staring into the mirror, I snapped back to reality and smiled thankfully, nervously, up at Susan, who gave an encouraging smile and withdrew the mirror. Swiveling to Edmund when I heard the sound of ripping material coming from his direction, I was surprised to see him tearing off a fair fraction of his white school shirt and handing it to me. Understanding his intentions, I took it with a grateful smile and inhaled deeply, trying to be the brave queen I had been while ruling in our much-loved Narnia.

He slowly knelt before me, my eyes never leaving his, and he asked the same question he always did prior to doing anything medical with me.

"Lu?" The inquiry was an affirmation that I was ready, that I anticipated the inevitable pain about to come. I was only human, after all. Yet, my brother never ceased to be _sure _I was ready, whenever he got the chance; I supposed it was his way of making up for all of the times he hadn't been there to warn me about oncoming pain in the countless battles of Narnia, even if that was because he had been experiencing pain himself. I loved him all the more for it.

Likewise, my answer was always the same.

Nodding, I closed my eyes and laid a comforting hand where I instinctively knew his shoulder to be, my free hand knowingly holding the strip of Edmund's shirt near my nose.

"I trust you."

He reached up and held my chin tenderly in his strong, careful grip, his other hand delicately clasping my already swollen nose. Stiffening a little in an involuntary pinch of fear, I relaxed again as I felt Susan and Peter's soothing hands on my shoulders, Edmund waiting patiently until I was all right. Sensing his nod of warning, I held my head high, feeling quite brave indeed. The reason, I knew, was standing all around me.

Tears found their way into my eyes as Ed tweaked my nose in the appropriate direction and the expected pain hit, the well-known pounding and swelling, aching eyes, and swift blood flow coming along with it for the second time that day. For a few seconds, the sudden, harsh pain blinded my nine-year-old mind, and as the blood continued to travel down my face and closer to my chin, my dark-haired brother quickly pulled his healing-nose hand away and had it press the hand holding his torn shirt to my nose.

Blinking rapidly before cautiously wiping my renewed tender eyes to rid them of the tears, I smiled at him appreciatively as he stood. Laying a hand softly on my back, he began to lead me through the station, Peter and Susan following wordlessly, finally stopping after a bit in front of a girl's lavatory.

Grinning, I looked back at him, comprehending his objective. Going back to take Susan's hand, I pulled her gently with me into the toilet, heeding our brothers' efforts to let us know they would be seated at the bench beside the boarding area.

They didn't need to specify; there was only one bench at which we ever sat, as a last place to be together before heading off to our separate boarding schools, where we would only see each other during breaks and summers and our solitary form of communication would be letters. Of course, the last two years hadn't been altogether pleasant gatherings, what with Edmund's drastic changes following his attending boarding school for the first time when he was my age. Now, though, since Narnia, our harmony had been restored, and we were jovial siblings in each other's company.

When I affectionately discarded of Edmund's thoroughly soiled piece of shirt, a sort of unique pain struck me as I heard it hit the bottom of the trash receptacle with a distinct thud; it was a pain that resonated none so emptily in my heart, bringing a smile to my face all the while. I gazed into the lavatory mirror as my sister helped me clean my face for a second time, her caresses with a wet paper towel again sending my mind into the slightest daze; honestly, it was no wonder why Aslan had named her the Gentle Queen. I wasn't totally aware that my mind had traveled to reminisce in memories long past until I was completely immersed.

Only a few days after returning from Narnia and finding ourselves in the Professor's house, some semblances of ordinary life appeared to have begun to come back to us. Everything was still incredibly awkward and bizarre, but all seemed right at the same time. Susan and Peter hadn't started changing yet, and while there were the most minuscule foreshadows of the things they were presently facing, neither Edmund nor I had ever expected things to get as bad as they would.

I knew my siblings were feeling emotional pain from leaving the kingdom we had lovingly ruled, knew they were trying their best to move on and never forget at the same time. They were hurting, and I was convinced I had been the one to cause it. It was my fault we'd left Narnia, after all; my brothers and sister had run after me when I'd rushed off with nothing but the whispered 'Spare Oom' to give them any clue whatsoever, and if I had known where that would lead us…

I had made my siblings feel such enormous pain, such inexcusable pain because of my curious nature; I hadn't even considered the consequences of my sudden remembrance and decided to charge onward, sure Aslan wouldn't let anything happen to me or my family. Nothing had _happened_, per say, not in the physical sense at best, and yet, I couldn't help but wish I'd ignored the spark of adventurousness that had coursed down my spine. I hadn't, though, and that was what had left me so broken, left _us _so distraught.

They never blamed me, of course; at least, not out loud, and if they felt even the most microscopic amount of resentment for doing what I'd not intended to do, they never showed it. Consequently, I often found myself desperately wanting to know just how I came to deserve such wonderful siblings, especially considering I'd only managed to hurt them in the long run simply by being myself. As the self-guilt weighed down on my again-eight-year-old shoulders, which felt so wrong in itself, I observed that I was on the very verge of breaking down.

On the same evening I came to this conclusion, I shattered. To make matters worse, I shattered all over my siblings' innocent hearts.

I didn't do so intentionally; I didn't know they'd followed me to the Professor's study while he was out, and it was hardly my fault the Macready was busy scowling at every corner of the house apart from that one.

I stared, mesmerized and haunted at once, at the kind man's oddly Narnian style of decoration, almost familiar carvings and tapestries covering every available space in the room. Everything hit me so fast; I didn't see it coming, but anguished cries, blurry vision, and salty liquid were the only things I knew in the next several seconds.

Not even taking notice of their footsteps, which I had memorized even before Narnia, I didn't realize they'd stepped into the room and found me out until it was too late. Peter put his hand on my shoulder and knelt in front of me as the others gathered closely around, startling and making me ashamed at the same time. I hadn't wanted them to find me, to see me like this; now, I'd have to tell them everything, for I could never refuse them when they were united.

"Lu," Those blue eyes… "What's wrong? You've never cried this hard in your life, not even back home."

Home.

_Narnia_.

That only made me cry harder, made my sobs louder, and I could do nothing but muffle the sounds in one of my handkerchiefs to ensure the Macready didn't find us. All of their eyes were shining with such concern, such love and support… I buried my head into Peter's chest and cried all the more heavily. I didn't deserve this.

He just rubbed my back, and I could faintly feel Edmund stroke my hair, Susan resting her hands on mine as they clasped Peter tightly around his thinner neck. I strove to take deep breaths through the torrents of tears, but finally choked on the forced air, the constriction of my throat not helping matters as I began to cough violently.

My eldest brother patted me firmly but gently on the spine to get my spasms and breathing pattern under control; scared and psychologically tormented though I was, I grudgingly understood I would still have to tell them of my burdens. Recognizing I wouldn't have the ability to talk without sobbing for quite a while yet, I spoke-cried into my brother's chest, unwilling to show my unhinged face to my siblings when they were hurting enough as it was.

"I'm not worthy of you…" I confessed as I dissolved into another round of full-on, no-talking tears, but even through the onslaught, I could feel their shock, confusion, and overall turmoil: the very things I'd wanted to avoid, but somehow couldn't bring myself to do so.

"What do you mean, Lu?!" Susan asked frightfully, as I expected she would. At Cair Paravel, she had always been the one to demand elaboration in my rare breakdowns…

"Just what I said," I blubbered. "I don't warrant having you as my family." As Peter suddenly tried to wench my from his chest, I gripped him tighter, but my juvenile strength wouldn't cut it. He succeeded in prying me from him, but at cost to themselves: they were finally given a clear view of my internal collapse, which absolutely devoured my much-older-than-eight-year-old face.

"How could you think that, Lucy? Of _course_, you're worthy of us! We couldn't get along without you! Is this why you've been so distant these past few days?" I didn't need to answer; he'd said it for me. He frowned deeply, taking my handkerchief from my hand and wiping my eyes and face, though it did no good as a whole new spell of tears sprang forth just as he finished. This was the moment I'd been dreading; I didn't want to burden them, but they knew I was powerless against them all at once… I had no choice.

"We left Narnia…it was my fault, and now…you're hurting." Peter immediately clenched me to his body again, his arms strong and safe to my frightened, unstable soul.

"Oh, Lu…" My golden-haired brother breathed. Knowing he wasn't going to say anything else until I was completely done, I continued.

"Even if you don't show it, I can see it! I've known you for _twenty-three years_! There's nothing you can hide from me, and you should know it by now! So, why even try?!" Edmund's arm wrapped around my waist in loving comfort as Susan placed her forehead against my hands, which were wound around Peter's neck once more. To an eavesdropper, it may have seemed that my eldest brother's next words were spoken with slight trouble, though they were strong and proud to the ears of the room's occupants.

"It…it's only natural for us to be hurting, Lu, but we don't blame you! We never have! We—" I didn't let him finish.

"Yes, but…you may not blame me, Peter, but what about trust? Do you trust me?"

"With everything that I am and more," I pulled away and looked at him, tearful and confused. His voice had been so hard, so sure, leaving no room for argument, and his face spoke the same. In shock, I looked around at my two older siblings, only to see that they possessed matching expressions. Could they really trust me that much after everything? "We all do, Lucy. You _have _to know that! If we didn't, would we have trusted you with our lives in battle or renewing our faith in Aslan when we forgot Him?"

"But, Pete-"

"No buts," Edmund spoke next, and I looked to my right. His intense gaze ignited something within me, and he looked every bit the Just King he had been and still was. "We trust you with our hearts, our lives, our faith; isn't that enough?"

My voice would not come forth to provide an answer, and I could only stare as I considered him. It should be…it _should _be enough. Then…why did I feel so hollow, so empty inside?

"Lucy," Susan broke through my evaluating ponderings as she took my hands tenderly. "We followed you in the Waste that day because we always protect you."

"We followed you because we always trust you." Edmund's eyes burned again, a mysterious, red tint to his face I'd never seen in all of our years.

"We followed you because we _love_ you; then, now, _forever_." Peter… That boy never failed to end things in such a poetic way, whether that 'thing' was an argument or wedding speech.

They were all such beautiful people, such beautiful Kings and Queen, such beautiful siblings… Eyes awash with tears, I worked to swallow the rising lump in my throat, if only enough to give back more than they'd given me this night.

"You…you…" Peter carefully took my hands from Susan and rubbed their backs with his thumbs, smiling compassionately.

"What is it?" Closing my eyes desperately to keep the rising tears at bay, I opened them when I was sure the floodgates were shut for at least the moment. Taking a shaky breath, I stared steadily at each of them.

"I love you so very much…" My voice cracked as some of my resolve splintered, a few salty droplets leaking out of my eyes and traveling swiftly down my face.

"And we, you. No matter the world in which we live." Not being able to stand it any longer, I let loose my dam of tears, the relief and love flowing through me too much as I fell to my knees. My siblings loved me, trusted me, wanted to guarantee my safety at all times. That knowledge alone moved me, but something else warmed me in a different, impossibly more beautiful way.

My siblings hugged me from all sides, their enveloping arms, heated bodies, and strongly beating hearts surrounded me, engulfed my senses. This unity of faith and devotion was unbreakable, infallible, and unwavering; there was something striking about it, something that kept all others away and issued complete silence, complete peace whenever and wherever it formed.

"Lucy!" I jumped instantly, so wrapped up in my recollection that it took me several seconds to comprehend I was in the bathroom of a train station and not the Professor's study in the country, that I was with only Susan as our brothers waited outside and not with all three of my siblings at once. Directing my gaze and attention to Susan, I noticed she had an anxious expression and a hand on my shoulder. Relaxing, I exhaled and smiled affectionately.

"I'm okay, Susan. Sorry. I was just…remembering…" My smile widened and eyes sparkled automatically, Susan's features morphing to return it to a small degree.

Edmund and Peter often joked it was impossible to match my excitement when it came to Narnia; something told me that wasn't totally it, though. Susan was the most realistic one of us, and though she put on the façade of the quickest to adjust to life back in Finchley, we knew better. Yet, I was assured by her presence, as were my brothers, and we dealt with her sometimes despairing logic about conceding to the fact that we lived in England because we loved her.

She handed me a pair of ice cold, water-drenched handkerchiefs, two of mine she must have borrowed from my pocket while I had been lost in my imagination. I took them hesitantly, not completely grasping their purpose. Giving her a look to make her ware of my puzzlement, she merely led me out of the lavatory and consented to explain once we reached Edmund and Peter.

Our brothers were right where they said they'd be, and I beamed and ran for them instantaneously. Their faces complemented mine easily, though they glanced curiously at the very damp rags in both of my hands. Throwing equally bemused glances Susan's way as she walked calmly toward us, having refused to run due to it being unladylike, she only grinned and moved on to clarify while taking her seat beside me.

"There's no ice around to lessen the swelling of her nose, so I figured one water-logged handkerchief for now and one for later. Which reminds me, Lu," She unexpectedly plucked one of the aforementioned pieces of wet cloth from my hand and placed it safely in an inside pocket of her blazer, pushing my other equipped hand to put careful pressure on my nose. "You'll only be needing one of those for now."

The boys just nodded in understanding, and I couldn't help but notice the sparkle of admiration for our sister; she was quite the inventive one when circumstance called for it. Settling back preparedly, almost sloppily, against the wooden back of the bench, my thirteen-year-old sibling's face took on a recently well-known expression, and I knew our gentle accord was coming to an end.

"So, what was it this time?" My sister's question and tone were disappointed, weary. A weight of dread suddenly settled itself in each of our stomachs, and we stiffened; the atmosphere about us had gone from intellectual and emotional frivolity to grave, overused beginnings of heated arguments. Sighing inwardly, I braced myself.

Sensing the tension and wishing to be as far away from it as possible, seeing that he was still prone to guilt attacks from all his fights stirred in us, Peter stood abruptly, venturing away and further toward the train tracks. Taking a deep breath, he answered; I could feel his guilty agitation even from there.

"He bumped me." I couldn't hold back my surprise or outburst. My eldest brother had never been good at keeping his temper completely in check, particularly as of late, but he knew, no matter his pain regarding our home, never to start a fight over something so petty!

"So, you _hit_ him?!" My voice sounded a little nasally, and I reflexively blushed a light pink. He looked back at me then, at all of us, as if trying to bargain our pardon. The look in his eyes made me forgive him instantly, but I couldn't ignore the piece of my heart that fell away with a silent-but-to-me _chink!_

"No. After he bumped me, they tried to make me apologize. _That's _when I hit him." It wasn't just my shoulders that slumped and eyes that fell, wasn't just my face that turned away from my brother's gaze while quite aware of the expression on it. It seemed as if there was no end to the fighting, to the insignificant causes of them, to the pain through which he was putting himself and us. Couldn't he see how selfish he was being…?

"Really, is it that hard just to _walk away_?" The tired desperation in my sister's voice startled me for a moment, as I could tell it did Edmund and faintly Peter. My siblings and I were not used to hearing her beg for anything, ever; if she did, it was if she was on the verge of a mental disintegration or had no other tactic available in an emergency. Now, in an uncharacteristic profession of weakness, she was pleading my brother's character for all of our sakes, especially his.

"I shouldn't _have _to! I mean, don't you ever get tired of being treated like a _kid_?!" That struck a small cord. Yes, we very much detested that we were treated as children, as delinquents too young to understand the concepts of war or hatred, too young to go off to battle when my brothers, sister, and I had been doing it for over fifteen plus years! We simply…accepted it, adjusted better than Peter, we supposed. As High King, he was used to having all of the control, second-in-command only to Aslan Himself, and losing that power in a moment's decision was just too much for him to handle.

"Um, we _are _kids!" Edmund's disbelieving, exasperated attempt to understand his only brother's reasoning was shot down immediately.

"_Well, I wasn't always_!" That thrust against a much larger, much more unsteady cord. We were silent for a long time, and though I half-expected Peter to eventually apologize for reopening such a large, mostly fresh wound, he just kept going, his emotionally drained tone surpassing that of Susan's from earlier. He plopped down roughly next to Edmund, and it came as no surprise to me when my sister didn't quip him about being a gentleman; she wasn't exactly a picturesque example of perfect posture herself at the moment, and he was already snippy enough for our tastes. "It's been a year. How long does He expect us to wait?"

I didn't know, honestly. Perhaps we weren't _meant _to go back, though I dearly clung to the hope that was not the case. I wasn't sure I could bear another year, let alone the rest of my life, without seeing my beloved country or Great Lion again. I was neither willing nor ready to separate myself from Narnia, but…if it happened to be Aslan's will, I would not be the one to disobey Him.

Susan's usual answer to questions like these, about it being 'time to accept that we lived here', was numb to my ears by now; I didn't _want _to accept it. I _wanted _to be defiant, to run as far away from this dreary place only called home on my school registration papers and never look back. I _wanted _to be in my _real _home; I _wanted _to be in _Narnia_.

Closing my eyes against the tears that had formed during my ponderings, against the tears that were just about to spill over, I scrunched up my face, biting down severely on my lower lip. I would _not _cry.

It was a much known fact that I was the hope and faith of my siblings. My hope that we would still return to Narnia kept them going, while my faith that Aslan would never forsake us, no matter that we could no longer see Him face to face, kept them moving through the many fights and waves of doubt that struck them. I was a shining light, a bright lantern on the shore that remained glowing as they were brought close and just as quickly pulled back in a turbulent, unpredictable storm. I would not cry in weakness and let that light distinguish.

Suddenly, something pinched me painfully, and I shot up with a yelp. My brothers and sister were at my side instantly, checking me over even as Susan gave me a less than whole-hearted reproachful look out of the corner of her eye; I had disrupted the peace, after all.

"What is it, Lu? Are you—ow!" Edmund gave a sharp yell now, and Peter and Susan peered at him strangely before feeling what we had.

"Ed, are you positive you're—ah!" Peter was suddenly yanked backward the slightest bit by his pant leg, but there was no one there when he looked.

"Peter, not you, t—goodness!" Susan was tugged forward by the front of her blazer, and I reached out to steady her as she fell into me.

Looking around, I noticed that no one else in the station seemed to be noticing or feeling anything. Not a pull or pinch or startled cry afflicted anyone; it was only us, it seemed…

The truth of it all came into being as a familiar, much-missed and much-loved tingle rippled through my body and instilled a wondrous, indescribable emotion of jubilance in my heart, so much so that my earlier tears freely fell from my face.

The station blurred. Its sounds faded with a last, shrill train whistle.

Clear, bright sunlight bathed the sandy landscape before us; a cool, salty breeze gently caressed the tears on my cheeks.

This was where my heart had been for the past year, the place I'd left it for safekeeping.

Narnia…

_Home_.

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**July 24, 2009: A/N: **_Again, sorry for the confusion with the new chapters!_

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__June 17, 2009: A/N: Now, I have plans to continue this, so please let me know whether I should do so! Thank you for your support! I truly and immensely appreciate it!_


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